At Le Bistro

Toby hesitated for a moment but eventually relented, returning Michael's smile. "Alright, Mike, if you insist. Let's see what this place has to offer."

They stepped inside, greeted by the soft ambiance and the aroma of tantalizing dishes. The maître noticed their presence and approached with a warm smile which immediately turned into an expression of disdain when he saw their appearance not appropriate for the place.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?" he asked politely.

Michael glanced at Toby and responded, "No, we don't. But we were hoping you could accommodate us."

The restaurant butler studied them for a moment before nodding. "Of course, we have a table available. Right this way, please."

As they followed him to their table, Toby couldn't help but notice the glances from other patrons. He whispered to Michael, "I hope this isn't some kind of joke you're playing on me."

Michael chuckled. "Relax, Toby. It's not as fancy as you think. Just enjoy the experience."

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